


Acceptance

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26979133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: Despite his arrogant exterior, Charles struggles to accept certain aspects of himself.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 7
Kudos: 8





	Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stregatrek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stregatrek/gifts).



He was jealous. 

He was jealous not in an awful way worthy of a tragic stage production - not even in a way that anyone would ever see or recognize in him - but he admitted it to himself that night as he tried to sleep and failed — only to end up eavesdropping on the newest member of the 4077th’s surgical team and his (rather adorable, really) boyfriend. 

That Klinger was allowed to spend the nights that he wasn’t on guard duty in Charles’ bunk was a testimony to both the camp’s general spirit of liberality and Winchester’s unwavering sense of propriety. He and Max would  _ never _ get up to anything in earshot of anyone else (partially, BJ suspected, because Charles was a jealous sort, too, and had no desire to share even the  _ sound  _ of what was his, especially with Hawkeye, who wasn’t above flirting with Klinger) - so Max could stay without fear of embarrassment or making anyone else uncomfortable. 

What he was doing as the night wended toward four in the morning - it didn’t make Hunnicutt uncomfortable (just jealous) - but it was revealing. 

“Darling, must we do this?” 

“You could just admit I’m right, I guess.” Klinger’s voice was sleep-rough, but warm and playful, too. BJ cracked an eye to see him climb onto the Major’s chest. 

Charles chuckled beneath him (Klinger inspired gentle amusement in the man to the surprise of  _ everyone _ ) and BJ knew Klinger must be able to feel the sound as much as hear it. 

That chuckle though - did it have the slightest of a nervous edge? As if Charles did not, good breeding and advantages to the contrary, expect to get the best of this particular game? 

“It’s real simple, Major baby. A lot simpler than most things that come out of your mouth. Just tell me you’re beautiful. You tell me that, I go back to sleep, you’re a hell of a lot less grouchy at breakfast.” 

“Might we not compromise, Maxwell? I will most happily tell you that  _ you  _ are beautiful from now until the dawn.”

The Corporal made a soft (but distinctly disappointed) noise. “You make everything difficult, Major.”

BJ stifled a laugh at that; it was pretty sassy. 

For his part, Charles sounded alarmed. “What are you doing, my dear?”

“Convincing you.” 

“By doing what, pray tell? Maxwell, those are my socks!”

“Shh! You’ll wake up Captain Hunnicutt. I know it’s your socks. Socks just happens to be,” he paused to fight them, “where your feet live.”

“And what do my feet have to do with anything?” 

“Gotta start somewhere, Major.”

“Maxwell, no one - exempting, perhaps, ballerinas, has lovely feet!” 

BJ put a hand over his mouth. He hadn’t considered it before, but maybe the reason the Winchester-Klinger alliance worked so very well was that they had carried over the truest (and most entertaining) aspects of their friendship into their love affair: constant playful arguing. 

“Major, you spend most of the time being mean to most parts of you, so be quiet and listen.” He dug strong fingers into the tops of his feet then, chasing pain from in between all the muscles and bones. “You tell me if I’m wrong, but aren’t these the feet that kept you standing up through seventeen hours of surgery the second week you got here?”

Charles can’t know it - but the listening Captain is just as impressed with his Corporal as he is. How did Klinger  _ remember _ that? 

“I did not realize you were paying quite that close of attention so early in our, ah, acquaintance.” 

“You didn’t think you were worth somebody paying attention  _ to _ ,” Klinger corrected. “You still don’t.” He sounded downright annoyed by it. 

“Pet, you are aware that my feelings about my own form and figure have no impact on my appreciation for you and the care that you show for me, yes?”

“I know that, Charles. It’s not me I’m real interested in right now. These are the feet that keep you upright when you pick me up, right?” 

BJ couldn’t see it, but he bet that Charles blushed to admit it. “They are, yes.”

Klinger looked up at him. “Couldn’t you love ‘em just for that?”

Charles did love the fact that Max  _ wanted  _ him to pick him up, seemed, in fact, to sometimes  _ need _ to be held by him, saying nothing, burrowed against him, sheltered by his strength. 

Receiving no answer, Klinger massaged his feet, reminded him how they held so much pain without a peep of complaint. “That seems like a Winchester thing you could be proud of.” 

“They are serviceable feet, Max.” 

Serviceable wasn’t an insult; Max decided he’d take it, fingers tracing up the Major’s legs. “This part should be easy,” he told the taller man. “You’ve gotten me tangled up in your legs lots, so you owe ‘em a kind word for that if nothing else.” 

“They are… fine… legs,” Charles managed, as Klinger ducked around to kiss behind his knees. “ _ You,  _ on the other hand, are a gentle menace.” 

BJ closed his eyes and wondered where Klinger might end up next. It seemed that he knew that there were certain parts of his anatomy that Charles either had no complaints against or wouldn’t allow him to discuss, so he kissed the bones of his hips and lay his fingers across the lower part of his stomach. 

“Maxwell…”

Klinger paid no attention to this warning tone. “What? It’s part of you, Major baby, and it’s beautiful.”

Charles sighed, the motion moving this most despised part of him further into Max’s hand. “It is… soft,” he said, voice taking its cue from the word. “Not… sculptured…”  _ Not  _ **_worthy_ ** . 

BJ was very still and very stiff with listening. Charles’ arrogance was only skin deep, it seemed — or not even. It seemed he had plenty of aspects he’d rather not think about, or wished remade in a finer form. 

“It doesn’t need to be,” Max said, head resting on the swell of him, the softness, hand lazily tracing treasured curves. “You’re so very beautiful, Charles.” 

“Only to you.”

“Nah. You’re telling me all those fancy painters you know wouldn’t be unpacking their brushes if they saw you like this?” He’d gently disarranged his clothing to better touch his way up the tall, broad man. He traced lazy, worshipful circles over the parts of himself Charles hated most: high thighs, his stomach. 

“Perhaps for  _ you _ . Would you be painted with me like this, Max?”

“Sure.”

“You don’t mind the idea of seeing your figure reproduced?”

“Baby, I spend half my time in front of a mirror playing with costumes. And none of them beat looking at you. So, you think you can be just a little nicer to this spot?” 

“I would rather pretend it did not exist.”

Klinger frowned. “You were almost impossible to find and not so easy ta get. Wishing parts of yourself away won’t win you any points with me, sir.” 

“Sir, hmm? I  _ have _ displeased you.”

“So make it up.” He took Charles’ hand and guided it to his stomach. “You say ‘soft,’ baby, but what you are is real nice to touch — warm and safe and perfect. So stop holding in your stomach when you’re over top me, or pushing my hands away like I don’t know what I want to touch. I don’t know who taught you all that stupid stuff about your looks, but,”

“You shall ‘un-learn’ me, is that it?” 

“Yeah. And for real, too. Not just you saying it to stay in my bed.” 

He slid his hands up his chest then, palms flat, paused to massage his broad shoulders and his neck. Charles appreciated the care, but chuckled just the same. “You are terribly thorough when you wish it.”

“You’re terrible to yourself,” Max challenged. But he took the sting from this by kissing his head. 

Charles frowned at the gesture. “Even you cannot but wish that my hair was ah, more… full.”

Max just pressed more tiny kisses to his head. “Be harder to kiss you here. You don’t get it, Major. I just like you - all over - ‘cause it’s you. I don’t want anything else or different or better or more. Just you. But you’d make things a lot easier on me if  _ you’d  _ stop wishing I was with someone else… even if that someone was some version of you.” 

“I… I shall try. Will that serve?” 

He’d never admit it, but it was more than Max had counted on. “Gimme a couple years and you won’t be able to pull yourself away from your mirror, baby.” 

Charles brushed his fingers over the Corporal’s cheeks to make his eyes close. Then he kissed them. “Your eyes are quite mirror enough.” 

They laid quietly together then, Klinger stroking his life-giving fingers (Charles didn’t hate  _ them _ ), when Max admitted, “Wish you really could see yourself the way I do.” 

“It is enough that you see me that way. That someone as fair as you could ever wish to be mine.”

“You’re doing it again. We’re a perfect match, Major. With your looks and my plans, there’s nothing we can’t do.” 

“I suppose I must, ah, take your word for that?”

“Uh-huh. Now you’re getting the hang of it. Take my word for it - for  _ all _ of it, Major, ‘cause I promise nobody spends as much time looking at you and thinking about you as I do.”

Charles just pulled him close. Acceptance of himself - of his looks - didn’t come easily. But with Maxwell curled against and around him, he really did begin to try.

And BJ, who had been jealous, ended up being happy that the Major had found his Corporal. He seemed to need him. And Max was a bright little thing, too - he thought he might remind Peg how much he liked each part of her just the same way when he finally made it home. 

End! 

  
  



End file.
